I'm Not Infatuated

Infatuation: a foolish and usually extravagant passion or love or admiration; puppy love: temporary love of an adolescent; an object of extravagant short-lived passion.

Some infatuations last longer than others. Some last a week, others last long enough to lead to a foolhardy and short lived marriage. And yet, all too often we confuse this infatuation with love. I myself have been guilty of it. In fact, recently, while talking to my friend Brooklyn, we were discussing a girl I know and why I haven't asked her out. I said it was because even though she's perfect for me, I wasn't attracted to her. This is untrue. I realized later that I was saying I'm not infatuated with her. Relationships that begin from and are fueled by infatuation are often based heavily on physical attraction and urges, and rarely lead to deep and meaningful relationships. The relationships that last are those based around actual friendship. If you enjoy the company of another person and you like their personality, that is a foundation upon which you can build true love. It may not have the same giddy excitement of an infatuated fling, but it is more rewarding. So, when you're looking for someone to be with, don't look for someone who fills you with giddy excitement. Rather, look for that friend whose company you consistently enjoy.

Equine Wisdom

Excuse me, my good sir, but would you like to go riding today?

--Why certainly. I have let far too much time pass since I have enjoyed equestrian pursuits.

Very good. Shall I come around 8 then?

--Yes, yes. Jolly good.

(some hours later....)

--I'll be dashed if this isn't the most pleasant thing I've done all summer. Wait, I think I'll say all year. Yes, this is the most pleasant thing I've done all year. I must thank you for inviting me.

Oh, it nothing. My pleasure. I do find the brisk...Look Out!!

--Oh, I say!!

Oy, chap. Are you all right?

--Yes, yes. It wasn't a long fall. All this mud makes it look much worse.

Very good. Will you be able to ride back to the manor?

--Certainly. And if you retrieve my horse, we can enjoy a bit more of the evening before we return.

You mean you wish to continue?

--Of course. A simple fall won't keep me from riding. I'll just pay more attention in the future.

Hear, hear! Good spirit, lad! I'll fetch your mount.

--And I'll try to remove a bit of this mud.

New Motto

Never get your hopes up.

It sounds so negative, doesn't it? Well, I don't mean it that way. I just mean don't get your hopes up. Don't get so worked up wishing for something that when it doesn't happen you get all sad and depressed. I can't count how many times I have been made sad because I got excited about something that, logically, I knew would never happen. So, because of this, I say never get your hopes up.

And here is where I run into a conundrum.

I don't mean to say never try for anything, but how do you try for anything and not get your hopes up? How do you simultaneously maintain both apathy and optimism? You can't. They are like faith and fear: they can't exist in the same place. Well...that is unfortunate. How can I keep from being made sad now?

You can't. Its part of life. We hope for things. We try for things. We fail at most, succeed at some. We hurt. We move on. And the moving on is what matters. It's what sets the happy people apart from the unhappy. Those who can't seem to find happiness have indulged in apathy and dwelling on their failures. Its a fact of life that we fail more often than not. But happiness isn't found by dwelling on the mistakes. If we can learn to look forward and keep on trying, we will find our spirits inexplicably lifted.

So, I guess my new motto will be "Keep your hopes up." Even though I know it won't always end up the way I hope, at least my journey through life will be more pleasant overall. And hope is a key factor that keeps it that way. So, keep your hopes up. Whatever your circumstances, keep your chin up and realize that one day, it will all work out like you're hoping.

Read Me

Its late, but I have aught to say. We live in a consumer driven society. Basically our entire economy is based around us buying things. We also live in a society that, due to staggering advances in technology, is more productive than any society previous. In fact, if we wanted to compare today with the 70's, it would only take 20 hours today to produce on an equal level with the 70's. And yet, we work more hours now than ever before. In fact, we work more hours than any other country in the world. Why?

For some reason, the 307,869,263 people in the United States have gotten in their minds a mentality of more. We can produce more than ever, quicker than ever. So what do we do? Rather than take time off to be with our families, we work more hours so we can get more money so we can buy more things. And in our pursuit of things we sometimes get carried away. Even though we are making copious amounts of money, we are spending even more. We buy and buy and buy until we reach the end of our income. And when we get there, we turn to credit to give us the means to buy what we still lack until we wind up comfortably spending our last 15 minutes sitting on a fabulous couch in a spacious and beautiful house where we watch a few moments of tv on a gorgeous plasma screen.

I am not ranting about money. It seems that I am, but I am not. I am instead ranting about time. About quality of life. I have been building up to this for quite some time. My own thoughts and ideas have been sliding this way with some regularity for several weeks or months. It began with getting away from video games. I quit playing them entirely for three months, and now I still only play sporadically. I have also given up almost completely on movies (their only remaining purpose: to provide the time and place to cuddle with those who warrant cuddling). And more recently I am working to wean myself of the computer and my cell phone. Why on earth would I do this? Didn't we invent all of these things to make life easier and more enjoyable? Yes. Yes we did. But for some reason we have grown to be almost dependent on them. In my own life, I can see myself turning to these pieces of technology so often that they are taking away from my enjoyment of each moment of life, as well as distracting me from pursuing hobbies I actually enjoy a lot.

I think I can safely say that we all have things we would like to learn or perfect. Whether it be rock climbing, fiction writing, or belly dancing, we all have something we aspire to. If we were to cut our time spent with our things (computer, tv, car, boat, cell phone, etc) we would free up time to engage in these other interests. Now, I'm not saying to sell your belongings and swear a life of poverty. But I am saying that we should quit chasing them. We should quit letting them govern us. We should quit comparing ourselves to the rest of the world because that only leads us to believe our life is less fulfilled unless we have more things.

Personally, I am going to begin to take more enjoyment out of riding my bike to work, or looking at the decor in a room while I wait for someone. I am going to spend more time outside. I am going to leave my things behind and pursue my actual interests. I am going to learn to form my own climbing holds. I am going to learn to play better on my didjeridoo. I am going to dive deep in to my scriptures. I am going to truly appreciate people and make more friends. I am going to live.

Lessons from Liquids

I have spent quite a bit of effort in my life being satisfied with what I have and where I am. As we all know, it is not easy to do. There will always be someone with a better car, a better job, a better hobby. (in all cases, replace better with "better") If we continue to look to others to judge our own success and state of achievement, we will always be found wanting.

I think one of the great struggles of life is learning to be happy. All of us are forever chasing that elusive state of contentment, where we want for nothing, enjoy everything. But so few of us ever seem to get there. What is required by the human spirit to be happy? I think first and foremost happiness requires that our human spirit overcomes our human frame. I speak here of the physical nature being subjected to the control of the mind/spirit. When I say physical nature, I am speaking of all of the base impulses of the human. Those impulses that are sometimes referred to as human nature. The desire to indulge in eating too much, the desire to be superior to another, the desire to live in luxury and exert power over those weaker than you. These are all examples of what I refer to as physical nature. If I were to use a judeo-christian synonym, I would call it carnal nature. I feel like this base greed is a big factor that pushes so many to "succeed" in the traditional American sense of acquiring money and possessions. But it is also what keeps us from being happy, no matter what our state of "success." If we want to be truly happy, we need to exercise the power of our mind. We need to be satisfied with what we have. We need to set reasonable goals and enjoy their achievement.

One element of this power of the mind over the carnal can be learned from water. (Incidentally, it can also be learned from the eastern philosophy of Taoism. But they just got it from water, so I am skipping the middle-man.) If you watch a stream flowing down a mountain, the water moves around or over any obstacles in its path. It doesn't protest them. The stream simply incorporates the rocks and obstacles into the path it must follow. Throw a rock, large or small, into the stream and see how the water reacts. It doesn't throw a fit or start complaining about this new problem. It just accepts the new obstacle and works around it. Simply, quietly, peacefully. If we could just learn to accept our problems and work around them, through them or over them without protest, we would be much happier.

Excuse me, Can I ask you a question?

Is there any benefit to always making the responsible choice? If I spend the rest of my life always doing what "should" be done, will I be satisfied with myself? Will I regret that I never hitch-hiked around the country? Will I wish that I had splurged on a cruise or a trip to Kalymnos? What is the benefit of living by your whimsy? So you become a better person because you were homeless in Moab? Do you get more out of life because you went skinny dipping during winter? I have so many questions about how we (I) live our lives. I wonder about all the different choices we have and their various consequences. I wonder about this so much that I even question the justifications of buying a climbing rope or a tent. Why buy those things, when there is school to pay for and food to purchase?

A Challenge

Let us look for those around us who could use our support.

Doc said it'd kill me, but he can't say when

Tonight I went with Matt to an Old Crow Medicine Show concert, and I have to say, those guys put on a better show than Cheap Trick, Blue October and Sevendust combined. They got some real soul and fire in their music. Tons of fun to watch. But, as you know, when I am in these masses of humanity I always get thoughtful about myself and who I want to be. I look around at all of these people and think about them; the way they look, the way they act, the way they smell...and I wonder about how I appear to others. As you may or may not know, it is Stache-tober, and I have appropriately been growing a mustache. But as I looked around at all the people tonight, I realized that I have no desire to be aberrant in my appearance. And it occurred to me that, in todays society, a mustache is a gross (pun intended) deviation from the norm. A scruffy chin, or even a goatee is more acceptable. And with this realization came the knowledge that I don't want to be someone who has to look different for people to validate my existence with their attentions. Or maybe I'm looking to deeply into facial hair...maybe I just realized I don't like mustaches. Either way I am shaving it off. And I'm okay with that. Just like I'm okay with being bland looking, odd smelling, wonderful me.

Shiny Shena the Shaman

Shena brings up a good question: if there were no expectations and no taboos, what would I want?

I spend a lot of time in my life thinking about all of the things I do. I think about all of the things I want and how they effect my choices. Actually, more often than not, I think about how the things I want effect how I feel about what I have already done. Quite frequently I have found that my desires and my actions are not necessarily in agreement. I wonder if maybe what I want is only an illusion. Perhaps what I really want, deep down in my bone marrow, is the true motivation behind my actions. Unfortunately I cannot think of any plausible way to test this theory. So, my secondary plan of action is to create such a forceful set of desires in my conscious brain (the one that may be illusory) that its sheer mass squashes any underlying wants. I know, its a very brutish way to solve my problems....but its a method I have used before in bouldering so I am hoping it works in this setting too.

But back to the original question...If there were no taboos or expectations, what would I do with my life? What would I pursue? Well, because I use my blog as a medium for self exploration/expression, prepare to hear what I have to say about this. I would like to think that I would strive to spend all of my time outside. Well, maybe not all, but a good chunk of it. It is very possible I would not wear clothes nearly as often as I do now. (What? No taboos, remember?) I would definitely not be in college, and I would probably be in either Portland or Provo. ...To be totally honest, I am not sure how to fully answer this question? I think it is more useful as benchmark for judging how happy we are with the road our life is currently on. It is questions like these that guide us as we strive for that elusive state of perfect happiness.

As we use these benchmarks, we also have the blessing of other people. Everyday we come in contact with more people, and for better or worse, they influence our journey. Allow me to use this opportunity to thank just a few of those people who have influenced my journey. (mostly for the better) There are some of you who didn't get in here because I couldn't find you on the internet. But you also aren't reading this, so thank you to all those who see this.

No, That's my spleen...

If I were to look inside you, what would I find? And don't tell me I'd find your colon, because I wouldn't. I don't even know what it looks like. What I mean to say is, if I were able to see your motivations, what would I see? If I could see what you really, truly wanted, what would it be? I think, sometimes, we trick ourselves into believing that we want something just because we know it is the good thing to want. Or we tell ourselves that we are doing things for the most noble of reasons. Take church attendance for example. What do you really want from church? If you look deep inside yourself, and strip away all the protective layers, what would we find as your motivation for attending church? My motivations are these: mostly, because I told God I would go every Sunday if I could, but additional factors are role expectations, social factors and habit. These motivations are sufficient to get me up and off to church every Sunday, but do I really want to go? Having experienced Sundays without having the opportunity to attend, I can safely say that yes, I do want to go.

But lets get away from religious matters. What keeps us college students in school? Why are we here, paying to have the chance to spend every waking hour pursuing a degree? Why do some people choose to marry, and some not? Why do we participate in our various pastimes? I feel like it is important to ask these questions so that we may better understand ourselves. As Socrates said, "And unexamined life is not worth living." But why should we examine our lives? If we examine our lives, we will notice that we neglect certain aspects of life more than others. If we look closely, we will see our imbalances. Balance is so important. If we can't maintain balance in our lives, one force or another will push us over the proverbial edge.

Those are my thoughts for the day...

Frankl-stein

Its pretty good. Yes, all told, life is pretty good. I say this because I am living a fairly righteous life. Because I am spending so much time rock climbing. Because I am given the opportunity to be outside, either on bike or on foot, in the perfect whether Provo gets in the fall. I am managing to stay caught up in all my classes so far.

On a related note, let me share with you some quotes:

"Don't aim at success--the more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue...as the unintended side-effect of one's personal dedication to a course greater than oneself." --Viktor Frankl

"The best moments usually occur when a person's body or mind is stretched to its limits in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile."
--Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

Body, Mind and Spirit

There is a story about three individuals, Body, Mind and Spirit. They were the closest of friends. They shared a friendship that filled each with joy. A joy that shone like a light from inside. They made choices. Choices that left behind a withered relic of a friend. These choices were despised. They were looked upon as the most base and evil act, yet they were frequently indulged. Indulged....yes, that is the word. Indulged. For the choices came from the Body. Base impulses spawning from the most animal instincts. Impulses in direct contradiction to the Spirit. These impulses were known to be harmful to the Spirit. They were known to leave spirits wasted behind them. Yet the Body wanted them. Like a child screaming for more candy, the Body kept screaming for more. And the Spirit indulged. The Spirit withdrew from the Mind, and the Mind gave the Body the candy it so desperately wanted. This battle occurred frequently, always with the same outcome. With time, it became easy to give the Body its candy, just to stop the incessant whining. The Mind almost automatically fed the impulses of the Body. After a time, the Mind began to notice a change. A subtle change. Something that did not directly affect the Mind, nor the Body, but something impalpable and elusive. A short while later, this change was noted by the Body. There was a lack. A hole. Something missing. All of this time, when the Mind indulged the Body it denied the Spirit, leaving it parched and empty. The Spirit was no more than a withered husk, barely resembling its former beauty. The Body and the Mind looked upon the corpse with horror, aghast that anyone could do this. “Who has murdered our friend?” they wondered. “Who is capable of draining someone so completely?” In passing, the mind caught a reflection in a mirror. Is that me? What has happened?....The Mind looked closer, then looked at the
Body. Both were haggard and dull. Where once they shone brightly with inner light, there remained only a mockery of the former splendor. They were empty.

The two remaining friends tried to move on. But they noticed again that impalpable change. They were not as close. It seemed as though the loss of Spirit had dimmed their joy, their light, their friendship, their lives. With the Spirit gone, nothing seemed as satisfying. What could be done? The Mind began to feel regret, began to feel a desire to undo what had been done. Thus began the weaning of The Body. The Body still felt those impulses. Body still wanted them. Still threw a fit when the Mind would not indulge. But the Mind held strong. Or tried to. There were occasional bouts of weakness when The screaming of Body was too much. But the Mind remembered the Spirit. The Mind remembered the light. The friendship. The joy. And these kept the Mind trying. Over time, with the Mind denying the Body, the Body began to understand. Began to feel the void. Began to see the goal. And the Body began to help the Mind. The Body whined less. The Body tried to fight the impulses alone. And when it got to much, Body would turn to Mind for help. The two struggled alone for a time. It seemed such a long time too. One day, when Mind was helping to distract Body, they heard a sound behind them. Both turned to look and lo! what and exciting discovery to see Spirit returning from the dead. It was the same Spirit they had once known, only smaller and weaker. They were so happy to be reunited. Together, Body and Mind nurtured Spirit back to health. It took time. More time than the two had spent without Spirit. And it was hard. So very hard. At times, it seemed that no progress was being made. But they never forgot their goal. They never stopped working. All three remembered their once glorious happiness. They remembered and they worked. And eventually, they got there.

Is it in you? Dunno....never looked...

Remember when you were a child and you saw your first mohawk? I was that guy this weekend. Some friends and I went to Moab, Utah for the weekend and I decided it would be fun to field test the mohawk for a while. After five days with a hawk, the conclusion was reached that I don't want to be one of those guys. Having a mohawk automatically lumps you in to a group of people. People who don't make great choices. People who are trying to break out of societies norms. I don't want to be that person. I already have enough trouble slipping into the norms as it is. So I am back to the basic buzz cut I have been sporting for the last ten years. Those are my thoughts.

The Community of Free

The internet gives us access. It gives us access to the stupid. It gives us access to the brilliant. It also allows people to share those things that they think are important. To share those projects that they put hours of their life into, simply because they love it. I would like to share some of those with you. This is a webzine a friend of mine runs that deals with the world of art. Be it music or movie or movement or sculpture, it is covered in this zine.

As you probably know, I am addicted to climbing. I love it. The community of climbers has started a magazine that they put out for free that I feel you should all visit. At least watch the videos and be impressed by the climbers. It can be found here.

Lets all support those groups who go to so much effort to give us great information, software...anything for free. Support their hard work!

Here are a few websites I recommend:

Free software at Sourceforge.

Office productivity suite.

Free and effective antivirus.


Photo editor...a good one.

There is so much more out there. Support them if you can, spread the word if you can't.

I am 7 joy units

The art of rock climbing fills my soul with satisfied contentment. The act of rock climbing with friends fills my left over soul space with joy.

Gummi Bears and Sour Worms

Once again, I am listing things that make me happy. Some people might wonder why I take time to do this. If you are one of those people, try it. Then you will understand.

1) Babies. Brand new babies are wonderful reminders of what we are trying so hard to become. No, we aren't all trying to be babies. We are all trying to be as pure and loving as babies. Also, we are trying to identify all unknown objects by sticking them in our mouths.

2) Gummi anything. In particular, the worms and bears. I love them. They are little translucent blobs of tasty happiness. They can dance for you, you can make movies out of them...You can eat them. You can stick them to windows and make stained glass...they are perfect foods.

3) Whenever people I know and like get married to other people I know and like. I would say weddings in general, but we have all experienced those weddings where we don't approve of one or the other participant. But those unions that seem to be perfect are moments totally isolated from the minor irritations of life. Moments totally focused on two peoples entrance into a whole new realm of happiness. Cool...

4) My new Zune. Excuse me...my old, once broken, once repaired Zune. Regardless, it is being kind to me. It seems to have gay days now and then where it only plays fruity dance pop, but, generally it has good taste.

5) I have discovered that the key to happiness is waking up early and going to bed early. I only hope I can discover the secret of doing this during school....

6) Chicken. 'Nuff said.

7) There is nothing more surprisingly refreshing than a helpful and friendly customer service representative. These people are often cranky and unkind. So the cheerful ones can't help but lift spirits.

8) Friends who put up with your weird moods. Friends who don't make dirty jokes. Friends who get your jokes. Friends who buy you lunch. Friends who laugh when you act stupid. Friends who dance when y ou sing jibberish songs. Friends who inspire you to be less wicked.

9) Even numbers.

I'm sorry, what? I wasn't listening

It is time once again to tip my brain stew over the table of my blog and see what thoughts spill out.

I like my job. Mostly because I like the guys I work with. They are all really cool dudes. And they are nice to me, and treat me like a cool dude as well, which makes me happy inside. The other day, I was talking to one of them, Chris, and as I listened a thought came to my head. This thought was more of a question. Let me put forth some background first:

There is a difference between hearing a person talk and listening to them. Most people hear. In fact, it takes a real prick to not even hear a person talk. But listening...that is a whole other story. Real listening is more of an activity. It requires the listeners mental focus. The difference is well summarized in the movie Fight Club with the sentence, "they actually listen to you. They don't just wait their turn to talk." When you listen to a person talk, you say to them, "You are important enough for me to actively give you my attention. I care enough about this conversation to engage my mind in the discussion." When a person is being sincerely listened to, they feel the profundity of this compliment. Consciously or not, they can feel it.

Those definitions being proposed, my question is this: Is listening always appropriate? I have previously discussed conversation and established that there are two types. Conversations that matter, and those that are more trivial. It seems obvious to say that simply hearing enough of a trivial conversation to participate normally is sufficient. But, while there are two types of conversation, there is only one kind of person. All people are important. Whether or not I like a person does not change his or her worth. So, some conversations are not of equal value, but shouldn't I always give a person the same respect? Should I devalue the person with an insulting secondary attention focus simply because he or she is speaking trivially?

Here is my opinion. I feel like listening is always appropriate. A person is always important. Even when its is just one of those girls you run into occasionally who can't seem to talk about anything but her dog, she still matters. Listening to her prattle about her dog, or grandchild affirms her worth as a human being. This is always appropriate. Also, in the process of actively listening to a person speak you take in a lot more than simply their words. You perceive all of their non verbal communications. As you apply your mind to all of this information, you come to understand more of the person you are speaking to. And this is of great value to you, as the listener. I maintain, as did Emerson that "every man is in some way my better, and in that, I learn of him." How could we ever want to pass up a chance to learn and grow as a person?

Thus, I will always endeavor to give my full attention to anyone who is speaking to me. I will encourage them to talk, and I will listen. I expect to be much quieter in the future...

Its a 12a...and the last three holds are cruel jokes

There is a 12a* top rope route at The Quarry climbing gym. I have climbed it three or four times. I can get all the way to the last four moves with relative ease. Sometimes I fall off here, sometimes I don't. BUT....the last three holds are cruel jokes. You see that wheel on your mouse? Look at it from the side. See how far it sticks out? That is what I am trying to grab onto. I am trying to find a way so stick my fingers on there so they will support my weight. It hurts. Both my pride and my fingers. Argh!!









*12a is a rating of difficulty. The ratings begin at 4, and go to 10, where they divide into 10a-d and so on. To put in in perspective, all of you would find a 7 or 8 to be absolutely the end of your ability to climb.

Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies

Lets see if I can get this out properly....

I feel like today's society is over-sexualized. I also believe that this comes in conjunction with a negative gender role reinforcement. Let me attempt to state my case.

On facebook I am friends with some of my little brother's friends. Before you judge me, let me say that I used to oversee (babysit) them before they were old enough to obtain facebook accounts. Apparently I am a pretty cool overseer and they added me as friends. Anyway, as I look at these children growing up, I see them become more sexually aware than I, or any of my friends were. (That may not be totally true...I had friends "on the internet" by 8th grade...) Call me an old man, but things were different in my day. Let me cite the example of one girls profile picture. She is wearing a rather *ahem* suggestive shirt and kissing towards the camera. The overall effect of this picture seems somewhat of a generalized invitation. It is not, of course, but the fact that she even took this picture says something. I am not even sure if she knows exactly what it suggests, but here she is posing like that. Which brings me to my next point. Why does the little girls bikini swimsuit even exist? It is actually easier for the parent to put their child in a onsie (essentially like dumping her in a bag) than to fit two pieces on. I don't think anyone could really even answer that question, save to say that it does, in fact, exist. I would put it as just one more factor in the over-sexualization of an entire generation of children. Let me move to my next issue.

Remember all those great movies we watched as children? Fern Gully, Lion King, Lady and the Tramp...great movies. If you are to cast your mind back on all of your childhood movies, I would ask you to think about their romantic aspects. If I recall correctly (and I often do), it seems to me that any romance depicted was between adults. "But what about Lion King, Dan? There was definitely some tension between Nala and Simba..." Yes, but nothing came to fruition until they had reached adulthood. Any and all romance depicted in the cinematography of my childhood was twixt adults. In contrast, I know for a fact I have seen romantic what-have-yous in television and movies directed at the current generation of children. As they did not really stick in my mind as beloved, I cannot think of any at the moment, which is unfortunate.... I cite this as another example of encouraging more mature behavior in younger audiences. The subconscious message is being sent: look cute for the boys, and dudes...go in for the kiss. This is not healthy.

Gender roles: Men are inherently different from women. They are built with more natural strength and physical prowess. Women are more naturally nurturing than men. Men and women have such naturally different thought processes, inter-gender communication is practically impossible. So I do believe in differing gender roles. They are both healthy and natural. (However, I will not even attempt to broach this topic here any further.) But the gender role being propagated by modern media is shameful. Allow me to cite a lyric:

I need you to get up up on the dance floor
Give that man what he askin for (oh)
Cuz I feel like bustin loose and I feel like touchin you (ah, ah)
And cant nobody stop the juice so baby tell me whats the use

Do I really have to explain this to you? Women are shamelessly being encouraged to satisfy man's desires, while men are being taught to desire that which is less than virtuous. In a music video I watched recently, people were holding up little cards with their "dirty secrets." One of the embarrassing secrets presented said "I'm a virgin." How on earth did that become an embarrassing secret? Go ahead and watch pretty much any current t.v. show or movie, and you will find it encouraging, glorifying or trivializing extra-marital sexual relations. It literally surrounds us. With all these factors influencing children, how can they not become over-sexualized?

At this stage of my life, I am essentially an observer of society. I watch and I learn in preparation for the day when I raise a family of my own. When (if) this occurs I hope that I can somehow hinder this process. I hope that my children will grow up in an environment promoting healthy and timely development of social understandings. If there are any parents who read this, I would ask you to consider it honestly and seriously.

I'm not dead, but I'm not a zombie!

You know what I love? Not being dead. Lets review together, in the order they randomly pop into my head, the benefits of this un-dead condition. Listen to this while you read.



1) My cousin Kellie. Kellie is always so positive and full of the joy of life that you can't help but have your spirits lifted in her presence.

2) The book "How to Win Friends and Influence People." You may ask, "why is this cool about not being dead?" I will answer you. This book has been the sole cause of my transformation from hateful punk rocker, to loving metal-head. Okay...metal-head has nothing to do with anything, but you get my point. Because of this book I learned how to look at things from the other persons point of view. As it happens, its a lot harder to be angry and mean at someone when you are looking from their point of view. This book taught me that everyone justifies their actions to themselves, and they think they are doing the most right thing possible. Changes things, eh?

3) Ice Cream

4) Rock Climbing. I had a conversation with my friends this weekend about why they climb. They all climb because its fun. I do not. I enjoy it, and would call it fun, but that is not why I climb. I climb because I love the control of the body that it requires. To be a good climber, to do static moves, you have to be able to control individual muscles with remarkable precision. I like that.

5) It is my dream to one day have a jukebox in my house. I will fill it with awesome music that is fun to party to.

6) Guitars, Mandolins...I guess just playing music in groups. It brings people together. It brings happiness to any room or gathering. In fact, you really could say that it is a lot like Kellie.

7) Kellie's room-mates and friends. One of the reasons I love Kellie is that hanging out with her introduces me to a whole new circle of people I would never find on my own. For example, Mary. I would never have met Mary, or anyone like her, if it hadn't been for the fact that she was one of Kellie's friends. I love that they are kind, and not rough like the people I run with. They have a much less abrasive spirit than my friends, or even myself.

8) Mary. I like Mary. She makes me happy, and I like when she giggles at things that aren't particularly funny. It makes me feel like I am even funnier than I usually think I am. Mary, you should apologize to everyone who has to deal with me in this mood.

9) Children are perhaps the best part of life. They are innocent, and forgiving, and loving...they are joy. Its like a person is given an amount of joyfulness at birth, and when we are children it has less space to reside so it comes out more. When we reach adulthood our joy portion fits much easier inside of us and we appear less joyful as a result.

10) Have you ever had one of those days that kind of sucked, but then you used your body really hard in some physical activity that you enjoy? For instance, today was kind of crappy. But after work I rode my bike up to Vivian Park with Matt (about 24 miles). We pushed pretty hard and now I am smashed. It feels fantastic. It makes the whole crappy day seem fulfilled and like I am not going to bed having wasted the day.

11) I hate talking on the phone. This seems negative, but it leads me to my next reason to enjoy not being dead. Texting. I love it. I can exchange the information or thought that needs exchanging, and then....that's it. I love it. In fact, the cellphone in general is pretty darn amazing. Have you ever thought about all the things it can do? If its flabbergasting-ness is escaping you, think back 10 years to the technology back then. Crazy, eh?

12) The fact that I was not born in, nor have I ever been to France. I was born in the best dang country the world has ever seen. The U. S. of freakin A.!!

Those are my thoughts for the night. Forgive me if you were not mentioned, or if this is too many posts too quickly. Remember the list was completely at random. And I like posting. If you don't like it, stop reading. Both of you...just stop reading.

Actually....Best wishes from Dan and the whole crew here at Steinblog.

April 26, 1992

Contents:
1) Jackson Hole
2) Dating



Allow me to protest. I have just returned from Jackson Hole Wyoming. I do not want to be back in Provo. I had too much fun being outside all day and hiking and biking and climbing. It was a perfect life. I found that I am a person who loves to be outside doing those things. There is something about being in nature that just...I don't really know how to explain it. It puts me in a place of happiness.

And now for my rant about dating. I disapprove of it. Although, you may more accurately state that I disapprove of the way women participate. Now, I will admit up front that I am writing this due to recent and minor frustrations. But that fact does not change my views on the matter. First of all, I don't like that women are basically in charge of the whole show. As a man, my job is to make myself present and indicate my interest in a female. It is then entirely up to her whether or not we get to progress any further. That is not, of itself, so bad. What is bad is that women make their decision, and then express it through cryptic hints. I have no idea what they mean.

Next point. Here is how I see dating. Two people who like each other, spending more time together. The most important part of this definition is two people, who like each other spending time together. My problem seems to be simply bad timing. I can never seem to be attracted to girls who are simultaneously attracted to me. And it appears that my best efforts at flirtation are simply insufficient to sway the female opinion.

Resolution: Oh well. Its a broken system, but its the only system I have to work with. So, I am going to keep giving it an effort. Maybe not my best, but at least its something. This being said, I am going to attempt to go on a date before the end of the month. Anyone who reads this is free to check up on me, if they like.

Telephone Philosophy

How does my sister always manage to call me at the most inopportune times? I always have to end the conversation quickly and it makes me feel like a total ass. Am I always going to be mean to people in my family? Am I mean to my mother? I am occasionally rude to my father, I know. Which brings me to one of those ridiculous worries we all have. Here is mine:

Am I an incurable asshole?

I ask this because I have spent the last 5 or 6 years trying to be a nice person, and I still manage to offend people with ease, even when I am trying specifically to be extra nice. Take New Years Eve this year. My friend Shena invited me over to a place where some people were (her friends) and I decided to go. I went in with the specific attitude of trying to be nice and see only the positive side of people. I left feeling like I had done pretty well, only to have Shena tell me a few days later I hadn't been that nice. See what I mean?

Contrast this with my friend Mary. She has told me several times that I am a very kind and considerate person. That I am especially loving. Mary has known me for several years, so I feel like she has some basis for her opinion. But so has, and so does Shena. Which, then, do I believe? Am I actually an asshole on the inside, trying to hide in the sheepskin of a nice guy? Or am I actually a kind, caring man?

From here, I am going to talk about how we form our opinions of ourselves. Where do we get our self view? The two most basic elements forming our self view are environment and though process. We are, first and foremost, what we think we are. I think I am funny. Ask my friends and you will see that I am funny. But this is not the only think affecting our view. Our environment plays a huge role in determining what thought we have in the first place, and subsequently, how they manifest.


The two factors are very closely linked, each one determining the effect of the other. If I were writing a book, I would probably discuss this more, but I am only presenting these ideas to resolve the dilemma posted above. I think that I am a nice person. I think this because I intend to be kind. There are, however, settings in which I am rather a jerk. But these seem to be few enough that I can call myself, overall, a nice person.



Post Script: If anyone comments, please keep your opinions of me to yourselves...unless they are positive.

Miley and James

First things first. I am totally loving this song right now. I was singing it in my head the whole day at work. Listen to it while you read.


This is something I read once, and I found it to be most interesting. It was the spark behind quite a bit of thinking on my part. I wanted to share it with everyone. By everyone, I mean the two or three of you who might read this. Eventually, I will post my own ideas that come from this. Until then, enjoy what William James has to say on Habit.

William James on Habit


It is very important that teachers should realize the importance of habit, and psychology helps us greatly at this point. We speak, it is true, of good habits and of bad habits; but, when people use the word 'habit,' in the majority of instances it is a bad habit which they have in mind. They talk of the smoking-habit and the swearing-habit and the drinking-habit, but not of the abstention-habit or the moderation-habit or the courage-habit. But the fact is that our virtues are habits as much as our vices. All our life, so far as it has definite form, is but a mass of habits,—practical, emotional, and intellectual,—systematically organized for our weal or woe, and bearing us irresistibly toward our destiny, whatever the latter may be.

Since pupils can understand this at a comparatively early age, and since to understand it contributes in no small measure to their feeling of responsibility, it would be well if the teacher were able himself to talk to them of the philosophy of habit in some such abstract terms as I am now about to talk of it to you.

I believe that we are subject to the law of habit in consequence of the fact that we have bodies. The plasticity of the living matter of our nervous system, in short, is the reason why we do a thing with difficulty the first time, but soon do it more and more easily, and finally, with sufficient practice, do it semi-mechanically, or with hardly any consciousness at all. Our nervous systems have (in Dr. Carpenter's words) grown to the way in which they have been exercised, just as a sheet of paper or a coat, once creased or folded, tends to fall forever afterward into the same identical folds.

Habit is thus a second nature, or rather, as the Duke of Wellington said, it is 'ten times nature,'—at any rate as regards its importance in adult life; for the acquired habits of our training have by that time inhibited or strangled most of the natural impulsive tendencies which were originally there. Ninety-nine hundredths or, possibly, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousandths of our activity is purely automatic and habitual, from our rising in the morning to our lying down each night. Our dressing and undressing, our eating and drinking, our greetings and partings, our hat-railings and giving way for ladies to precede, nay, even most of the forms of our common speech, are things of a type so fixed by repetition as almost to be classed as reflex actions. To each sort of impression we have an automatic, ready-made response. My very words to you now are an example of what I mean; for having already lectured upon habit and printed a chapter about it in a book, and read the latter when in print, I find my tongue inevitably falling into its old phrases and repeating almost literally what I said before.

So far as we are thus mere bundles of habit, we are stereotyped creatures, imitators and copiers of our past selves. And since this, under any circumstances, is what we always tend to become, it follows first of all that the teacher's prime concern should be to ingrain into the pupil that assortment of habits that shall be most useful to him throughout life. Education is for behavior, and habits are the stuff of which behavior consists.

To quote my earlier book directly, the great thing in all education is to make our nervous system our ally instead of our enemy. It is to fund and capitalize our acquisitions, and live at ease upon the interest of the fund. For this we must make automatic and habitual, as early as possible, as many useful actions as we can, and as carefully guard against the growing into ways that are likely to be disadvantageous. The more of the details of our daily life we can hand over to the effortless custody of automatism, the more our higher powers of mind will be set free for their own proper work. There is no more miserable human being than one in whom nothing is habitual but indecision, and for whom the lighting of every cigar, the drinking of every cup, the time of rising and going to bed every day, and the beginning of every bit of work are subjects of express volitional deliberation. Full half the time of such a man goes to the deciding or regretting of matters which ought to be so ingrained in him as practically not to exist for his consciousness at all. If there be such daily duties not yet ingrained in any one of my hearers, let him begin this very hour to set the matter right.

In Professor Bain's chapter on 'The Moral Habits' there are some admirable practical remarks laid down. Two great maxims emerge from the treatment. The first is that in the acquisition of a new habit, or the leaving off of an old one, we must take care to launch ourselves with as strong and decided an initiative as possible. Accumulate all the possible circumstances which shall reinforce the right motives; put yourself assiduously in conditions that encourage the new way; make engagements incompatible with the old; take a public pledge, if the case allows; in short, envelop your resolution with every aid you know. This will give your new beginning such a momentum that the temptation to break down will not occur as soon as it otherwise might; and every day during which a breakdown is postponed adds to the chances of its not occurring at all.

I remember long ago reading in an Austrian paper the advertisement of a certain Rudolph Somebody, who promised fifty gulden reward to any one who after that date should find him at the wine-shop of Ambrosius So-and-so. 'This I do,' the advertisement continued, 'in consequence of a promise which I have made my wife.' With such a wife, and such an understanding of the way in which to start new habits, it would be safe to stake one's money on Rudolph's ultimate success.

The second maxim is, Never suffer an exception to occur till the new habit is securely rooted in your life. Each lapse is like the letting fall of a ball of string which one is carefully winding up: a single slip undoes more than a great many turns will wind again. Continuity of training is the great means of making the nervous system act infallibly right. As Professor Bain says:—

"The peculiarity of the moral habits, contradistinguishing them from the intellectual acquisitions, is the presence of two hostile powers, one to be gradually raised into the ascendant over the other. It is necessary above all things, in such a situation, never to lose a battle. Every gain on the wrong side undoes the effect of many conquests on the right. The essential precaution, therefore, is so to regulate the two opposing powers that the one may have a series of uninterrupted successes, until repetition has fortified it to such a degree as to enable it to cope with the opposition, under any circumstances. This is the theoretically best career of mental progress."

A third maxim may be added to the preceding pair: Seize the very first possible opportunity to act on every resolution you make, and on every emotional prompting you may experience in the direction of the habits you aspire to gain. It is not in the moment of their forming, but in the moment of their producing motor effects, that resolves and aspirations communicate the new 'set' to the brain.

No matter how full a reservoir of maxims one may possess, and no matter how good one's sentiments may be, if one have not taken advantage of every concrete opportunity to act, one's character may remain entirely unaffected for the better. With good intentions, hell proverbially is paved. This is an obvious consequence of the principles I have laid down. A 'character,' as J. S. Mill says, 'is a completely fashioned will'; and a will, in the sense in which he means it, is an aggregate of tendencies to act in a firm and prompt and definite way upon all the principal emergencies of life. A tendency to act only becomes effectively ingrained in us in proportion to the uninterrupted frequency with which the actions actually occur, and the brain 'grows' to their use. When a resolve or a fine glow of feeling is allowed to evaporate without bearing practical fruit, it is worse than a chance lost: it works so as positively to hinder future resolutions and emotions from taking the normal path of discharge. There is no more contemptible type of human character than that of the nerveless sentimentalist and dreamer, who spends his life in a weltering sea of sensibility, but never does a concrete manly deed.

This leads to a fourth maxim. Don't preach too much to your pupils or abound in good talk in the abstract. Lie in wait rather for the practical opportunities, be prompt to seize those as they pass, and thus at one operation get your pupils both to think, to feel, and to do. The strokes of behavior are what give the new set to the character, and work the good habits into its organic tissue. Preaching and talking too soon become an ineffectual bore.

There is a passage in Darwin's short autobiography which has been often quoted, and which, for the sake of its bearing on our subject of habit, I must now quote again. Darwin says: "Up to the age of thirty or beyond it, poetry of many kinds gave me great pleasure; and even as a schoolboy I took intense delight in Shakespeare, especially in the historical plays. I have also said that pictures formerly gave me considerable, and music very great delight. But now for many years I cannot endure to read a line of poetry. I have tried lately to read Shakespeare, and found it so intolerably dull that it nauseated me. I have also almost lost my taste for pictures or music . . . My mind seems to have become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of facts; but why this should have caused the atrophy of that part of the brain alone, on which the higher tastes depend, I cannot conceive . . . If I had to live my life again, I would have made a rule to read some poetry and listen to some music at least once every week; for perhaps the parts of my brain now atrophied would thus have been kept alive through use. The loss of these tastes is a loss of happiness, and may possibly be injurious to the intellect, and more probably to the moral character, by enfeebling the emotional part of our nature."

We all intend when young to be all that may become a man, before the destroyer cuts us down. We wish and expect to enjoy poetry always, to grow more and more intelligent about pictures and music, to keep in touch with spiritual and religious ideas, and even not to let the greater philosophic thoughts of our time develop quite beyond our view. We mean all this in youth, I say; and yet in how many middle-aged men and women is such an honest and sanguine expectation fulfilled? Surely, in comparatively few; and the laws of habit show us why. Some interest in each of these things arises in everybody at the proper age; but, if not persistently fed with the appropriate matter, instead of growing into a powerful and necessary habit, it atrophies and dies, choked by the rival interests to which the daily food is given. We make ourselves into Darwins in this negative respect by persistently ignoring the essential practical conditions of our case. We say abstractly: "I mean to enjoy poetry, and to absorb a lot of it, of course. I fully intend to keep up my love of music, to read the books that shall give new turns to the thought of my time, to keep my higher spiritual side alive, etc." But we do not attack these things concretely, and we do not begin to-day. We forget that every good that is worth possessing must be paid for in strokes of daily effort. We postpone and postpone, until those smiling possibilities are dead. Whereas ten minutes a day of poetry, of spiritual reading or meditation, and an hour or two a week at music, pictures, or philosophy, provided we began now and suffered no remission, would infallibly give us in due time the fulness of all we desire. By neglecting the necessary concrete labor, by sparing ourselves the little daily tax, we are positively digging the graves of our higher possibilities. This is a point concerning which you teachers might well give a little timely information to your older and more aspiring pupils.

According as a function receives daily exercise or not, the man becomes a different kind of being in later life. We have lately had a number of accomplished Hindoo visitors at Cambridge, who talked freely of life and philosophy. More than one of them has confided to me that the sight of our faces, all contracted as they are with the habitual American over-intensity and anxiety of expression, and our ungraceful and distorted attitudes when sitting, made on him a very painful impression. "I do not see," said one, "how it is possible for you to live as you do, without a single minute in your day deliberately given to tranquillity and meditation. It is an invariable part of our Hindoo life to retire for at least half an hour daily into silence, to relax our muscles, govern our breathing, and meditate on eternal things. Every Hindoo child is trained to this from a very early age." The good fruits of such a discipline were obvious in the physical repose and lack of tension, and the wonderful smoothness and calmness of facial expression, and imperturbability of manner of these Orientals. I felt that my countrymen were depriving themselves of an essential grace of character. How many American children ever hear it said by parent or teacher, that they should moderate their piercing voices, that they should relax their unused muscles, and as far as possible, when sitting, sit quite still? Not one in a thousand, not one in five thousand! Yet, from its reflex influence on the inner mental states, this ceaseless over-tension, overmotion, and over-expression are working on us grievous national harm.

I beg you teachers to think a little seriously of this matter. Perhaps you can help our rising generation of Americans toward the beginning of a better set of personal ideals.

To go back now to our general maxims, I may at last, as a fifth and final practical maxim about habits, offer something like this: Keep the faculty of effort alive in you by a little gratuitous exercise every day. That is, be systematically heroic in little unnecessary points, do every day or two something for no other reason than its difficulty, so that, when the hour of dire need draws nigh, it may find you not unnerved and untrained to stand the test. Asceticism of this sort is like the insurance which a man pays on his house and goods. The tax does him no good at the time, and possibly may never bring him a return. But, if the fire does come, his having paid it will be his salvation from ruin. So with the man who has daily inured himself to habits of concentrated attention, energetic volition, and self-denial in unnecessary things. He will stand like a tower when everything rocks around him, and his softer fellow-mortals are winnowed like chaff in the blast.

I have been accused, when talking of the subject of habit, of making old habits appear so strong that the acquiring of new ones, and particularly anything like a sudden reform or conversion, would be made impossible by my doctrine. Of course, this would suffice to condemn the latter; for sudden conversions, however infrequent they may be, unquestionably do occur. But there is no incompatibility between the general laws I have laid down and the most startling sudden alterations in the way of character. New habits can be launched, I have expressly said, on condition of there being new stimuli and new excitements. Now life abounds in these, and sometimes they are such critical and revolutionary experiences that they change a man's whole scale of values and system of ideas. In such cases, the old order of his habits will be ruptured; and, if the new motives are lasting, new habits will be formed, and build up in him a new or regenerate 'nature.'

All this kind of fact I fully allow. But the general laws of habit are no wise altered thereby, and the physiological study of mental conditions still remains on the whole the most powerful ally of hortatory ethics. The hell to be endured hereafter, of which theology tells, is no worse than the hell we make for ourselves in this world by habitually fashioning our characters in the wrong way. Could the young but realize how soon they will become mere walking bundles of habits, they would give more heed to their conduct while in the plastic state. We are spinning our own fates, good or evil, and never to be undone. Every smallest stroke of virtue or of vice leaves its never-so-little scar. The drunken Rip Van Winkle, in Jefferson's play, excuses himself for every fresh dereliction by saying, "I won't count this time!" Well, he may not count it, and a kind Heaven may not count it; but it is being counted none the less. Down among his nerve-cells and fibres the molecules are counting it, registering and storing it up to be used against him when the next temptation comes.

Faith and Darwin

Daniel Hallam Steinbeigle is a sissy. He also prefers to be called Dan. But he is still a sissy. I say this because I started a job last week. Eight hours a day, 40 hours a week. This alone has left me completely exhausted. I am not sure why or how, but I no longer seem to be able to do anything once I return from work. Perhaps it is the waking up at 6. Perhaps the doing of actual work. Either way, there it is.

The important part though, is that I work at BYU recycling. We get lots of paper. And books. One of those books I found sitting on a box. It has no cover or title page. I have no idea who the author is, but I have started reading it. It is about religion and the rise of pantheism and paganism. Rather than discuss the varying errors that have cropped up in religions across the globe, the author decides instead to catalog all the truths that are common among the various sects. Here is where I insert my disclaimer: the text is very christian biased. But the idea itself is sound. I like the thought of looking through world religions for common themes and mythologies. One of the ones mentioned by the author is the commonality of the diluvian theme. Many religions contain some version of the story of Noah's ark. And all religions (I maintain that atheism is included here) have some form of God or supreme being. They all have a creation story. To me, this speaks of some basic desire of the human being to have these ideas in his/her religion. Even the basic desire to have a religion at all seems to me very fundamental. Why, though, do we feel this compulsion to form a relationship with deity? What need are we satisfying?

I would say that all human beings follow some form of religion. You might argue that atheists do not, but they do. They believe that man is the supreme being. There is no God because there does not need to be one. This may not hold true for all atheists, but if you look honestly and closely, I firmly believe that you will find that all atheists have found something to replace God. Why do we all have a religion? To answer this question, I put myself in somewhat of a conundrum. I have to look to my religion as a base for my answer. I believe that we consist of both a spiritual being and a physical being. These two combine to become the person you are right now. The basic desire to follow some form of religion, to form a relationship with deity, stems from our spiritual nature striving to connect to the source from which it originates, or, God. The physical being, through the mind, lays over this heavenward straining, various filters and patterns which it dubs religion. Where then do we get the commonalities across faiths?

If you look at the world religions you will see that some ideas or stories exist in different religions. Some of these similarities are due simply to one religion existing as an offshoot of another. In other cases, the two sects in question are completely unconnected, either geographically or demographically. In these cases, I would submit that they speak to some primordial religion. It would seem that the easiest way to connect these ideas is through a common ancestry. Would it be so strange to think that in the beginnings of mankind, there was a religion followed by all humans? It doesn't even seem too farfetched o say the faith was established by whatever creator put the people there to begin with. There were few enough of them that it would have posted no problem at all to have 100% membership. As populations grew segments of the group would leave and, over time, would lose contact with the original population. Of course they would take with them their religion. But if they lost contact across newly formed borders, what is to stop the religion from evolving with the species? Just as many species of finch can be traced to a common ancestor, so can world religions be traced to a common parent.

Of course, so much of human history is unrecorded or otherwise lost it is impossible to prove this. However, I think the idea is sound. Religious evolution. Where evolution in life takes that which is improved and perpetuates it, religious evolution corrupts that which was perfect. So now we have to ask, how to we get back to the original?

Being alone while talking to the world

That's what I love about blogging. I get to express myself to the entire world, and no one ever reads it. There is no more perfect way to clear your thoughts.

But, moving on....







I know them. I went to high school with Kimber (the girl. And I didn't really go to high school with her. But we had some classes together). I worked with Levi after high school at the trailer factory in La Grande. I don't think either of them ever left the valley they grew up in. They just kind of stayed there...and now they seem to be some form of married with a baby. In fact, if you think about it, most of the people who stayed around in La Grande ended up married pretty quickly. They all have some sort of job and life and......

...then there's me. I left the valley the day I graduated high school. Minus a few short months before my mission, I have spent my life after high school in metropolitan areas. I am attending a large university. I am surrounded by a 38,000 people my age. I often revel in the fact that I can go anywhere in the city of Provo and find a pretty girl. And yet, my life is in shambles compared to them. Watch. I'll prove it:

La Grandians
Married
Employed
Children
Near family
College degree (at least I think Kimber does)
Dan
Hasn't been on a date in ages
Not
None
8 hours away
Failing out of college

See? I think most of these comparisons are exclusive to me though. If we were to compare to the other people who I know that started in the valley with the rest of us, the only one that really seems to hold true across the board is the married/unmarried one. Those who stay in the small town get married (on average) sooner than those of us who leave. Here is my theory about that.

In a small town, there aren't a lot of people. That's what makes it small. So, in these small towns people know they don't have a lot of options for getting hitched. So they don't look that hard. All this not looking leads to what I call, "ending up" together. They don't plan it. It just happens. After a little time, people just end up together, out of lack of options and boredom with dating. In a place like Provo, where I am surrounded by beautiful girls and boys, this does not happen. People always move on to the next one. Or in my case, just stay out of the game because the math says that the girl you are asking out won't marry you. So....which is better? Staying in the small town? Living the city life? You can't answer that question just based on this one dilemma, but I thought I'd bring it up. That being said, I am off to build a super hero.

I didn't want to go to Nova Scotia

I have just returned from an Aquabats concert. I can say, without reservation, it was one of the greatest experiences of my life. I love the Aquabats!!! Yes, the Bat Commander is getting older. Yes, Jaime the Robot is equally old. But they still put on some kind of wonderful show. They were awesome. I will say, however, that the crowd made me a bit thoughtful. You know how I get. All deep and philosophical and stuff. I mean, what goes on in a young girls life that she shaves her head and is a lesbian before she's even a junior in high school? Why is it that the punk rock crowd feels like they need to glue their hair into liberty spikes and giant mohawks? I just don't get it. Even more perplexing was the fellow with the tiny pants. I am not going to hyperbolate even a little. His pants were really so small that their full length did not reach from his waist to his ankles. Best they could do was ankle to lower cheek. But you gotta respect the pants. At least they tried. But anyway.....the concert. I had cake thrown at me (I wiped the frosting from my head off on the guy in front of me), I am now covered in sweat not entirely of my own make, and a small young attractive lesbian managed to ska dance her flailing arm in such a manner as to make her hand rather familiar with the captain and his boys. Bad luck, that...
We finished the evening with a "bachelor party" for Mr Jason Burr, which consisted entirely of telling the waitress he was getting married. But our eating out also gave me another opportunity to showcase my most unique (and possibly only) talent. Our waitress ended up spending a solid hour or more just sitting at the table talking to us. I love when that happens. It makes me feel like maybe, I'm not an asshole. Maybe I'm actually a nice guy. She said I was, so I must be, right? But really...Kara, you missed out. I tried to take a video, but my phone sent the video out into nothing and it no longer exists anywhere. But here are some pictures to make you all jealous.

Bane's Grave

It seems like whenever I get my hopes up, something comes along to bring them promptly back down. I feel like this happens to most people. Its sort of one of the themes of life. And yet, we continue to get our hopes up. Why, just today, my hopes were brought low and made dusty. And in this moment right now, I am getting them back up again. Why? Because that's what we do. It is part of being human, I imagine. Its definitely part of being happy.

Next thought:

Yesterday I went riding around BYU campus with Matt. I also had the chance to talk with my friend Susanna. And I taught Linden to shoot a handgun. What did I learn from these pastimes? I learned that Matt is a good man, and a great friend. I learned that Susanna is one of those rare friends with whom you can talk both small and deep. I learned that I am in love with Linden's serene beauty. I learned that I am trying very hard to avoid buckling down to get things done. I learned the value of not looking for trouble. I learned that I love bbq chicken pizza. I learned that I can shoot accurately at 20 yards. I learned. I learned. So, all considered, it was a pretty successful day. For a successful tomorrow, I need only apply those lessons.

Why the rambling? Follow this link. Listen to the song. It accurately portrays my state at the time of writing.

http://www.amazon.com/Banes-Grave/dp/B0010TDFYI

Cascade of Light

Last night, Matt, Linden and I decided to go hiking. We hiked Stewart falls because it is easy, short, and it was night. It could not have been a more perfect night for hiking. A light breeze...a full moon....warm.....perfect. On the walk back, I stopped several times, totally at random, just to stand still and enjoy the perfection. At the middle of the hike, when we were at the falls, we enjoyed some sitting time. Actually, Linden and Matt fell asleep, and I argued with the voices in my head. They are so negative all the time. "Give up this" "Forget about that" "You're no good" "No one likes you" So negative....All this arguing brought me to a conclusion. Giving up, resigning yourself, or just 'accepting' something about your life that you don't like is the easy way out. Its much easier to just say, "I have come to terms with the fact that I'll never have a third leg, and I'm okay with it," than to go out and do what it takes to get that third leg. Sometimes, though, there really is nothing more you can do. Your only option is to stay the course and patiently hope you get what you are hoping for.

A Dark Y and a Flashlight

Two things:

1) I seem to be addicted to tearing myself down. I realized this walking down the darker streets of Provo on what might well be a perfect summer night. I seem to do some pretty good thinking when I'm outside at night. I should make it a habit.

2) For the last week or so, I have felt perpetually like I was suffocating. (I spelled that word hearing Brian Regan say it in my head) I don't mean that metaphorically, like "I'm suffocating under the pressure to perform." I mean it like you mean it when your ex is holding a pillow over your head and you wake up screaming in your head, "OH MY GOSH I'M SUFFOCATING!!" There seems to be a non-stop feeling of not enough air in my lungs, or the air I am putting there just doesn't seem to be getting very good oxygen mileage. If any of you know any good Ghost Busters, send them my way. I may have work for them.

Vampires and Mountains

People buy blood. Its true. Okay, not totally true. They only buy part of the blood. The plasma part. But they still buy it.

I walked through Provo Old Town today. It is beautiful. The thing that made it beautiful was the landscaping. All the trees and shrubs and grass. Beautiful. As I walked, it occurred to me that if you were to remove all the industrialized, man-made crap from off the world, there would be nothing left but perfect nature. Those who know me best might say that I am being a bit wishy-washy. They might say, "But Dan, you love living in the city." And they would be correct. But I don't love the city for the pavement and the buildings. I love the city for the people. And if we were to do away with the cities, I would still be able to surround myself with a small group of people and thus, be happy. Why am I saying this? I don't really know. I suppose because I was struck by how pleasant and wonderful the world is. Perhaps I am frustrated with being forced to work inside the social structure of industrialization. Whatever it is, God has created quite a stunning piece of art in this world.

Its like a colloid...Two things in one

Conversation is an interesting phenomenon. It only really has two manifestations. There are conversations that fill time. These can be either exciting, or less than exciting. And then there are the conversations that stimulate thought. While the former is more common, (overwhelmingly so) the latter is of far greater value. Now, I am not saying that there is no place in this world for trivial conversation. Quite contrary to that, I believe that trivial conversation is a vital part of the glue that holds society together, and simultaneously it is the grease that keeps the world running smoothly. Without these meaningless exchanges, it would be much harder to foster good feeling and interactions between strangers would become a burden to be avoided at all costs. So, I believe that trivial uses of the English language are an important part of cultural and societal communication.

But there is another form of communication. That form which originates in thought and conveys between individuals ideas and beliefs of import. This brand of conversation has a purpose wholly different, and equally as important as the more trivial form. While the lighter conversations serve dually as glue and grease, the deeper, heavier verbal exchanges serve as an individual stimulus to growth. These conversations originate in the deeper thinking parts of the psyche and penetrate the shallow shell of the social mind to whatever part of the brain contains the individual. More often than not, these intellectual or spiritual conversations require the mind to engage in effort, just to understand the ideas, and cause the engaged mind to reflect inwardly about itself.

I have had three of these conversations in the last two days, and can honestly say that I feel better about myself as a person because of them. I had the rare, and coveted opportunity to spend an hour with my friend Susanna. While I wouldn't say we plumbed the depths of philosophical post-modernism, I wouldn't say we wasted our words. Of course, some of the time we indulged in the enjoyment of the trivial, but we also made the effort to talk about things that mattered. Our time was short, and after she had to leave, I chose to visit the house of some friends whose spirit always cheers me. My time with Sarah and Shena was used less for intellectual exchange, but I feel it was no less meaningful, if only because the spirit they carry with them seemed to lend its import to the conversation.

Tonight, however, was the conversation that sparked the whole process of my thinking about this. I spent the evening conversing with my friend Matt Spear. We talked for upwards of two hours, and I don't believe that any of it was wasted. Every part of the conversation was in some way used to share a personal belief or discuss an idea between the two of us. And here I am able to present an evidence for the growth I spoke of earlier. In the course of our conversation, I realized something about myself that I hope I will be able to develop to my benefit. We were discussing the differences twixt the way Matt receives guidance from the Holy Ghost, and the way his dad learns. Of course, the conversation came back to me, and I realized, for the first time ever, that the Lord has attempted to establish a method of communication with me. I realized that the only way I ever remember having received revelation is through writing. I say writing, but I mean the verbal (vocal or written) expression of whatever idea is in my head. I have received guidance numerous times when simply writing my thoughts during a church meeting. Or absently streaming my mind onto paper during a slow day of work or class. Elder Scott, of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said in a talk at the MTC, "When you write things down, you authorize the spirit to give you more." I personally believe this to be especially true in my own life. And now that I have consciously realized it, I can develop it and begin to make use of it.

That is the type of growth that can come from meaningful conversation. Those are the conversations I would dub, real communication. I would urge you all to seek after this communication in your lives. I have known people to go months or years without ever actually communicating with anyone. I do not believe this is healthy. And so, I urge you again to find a time and person with whom you can communicate regularly. It will improve your quality of life.

Dan?

My name is Dan. I know a girl named Arica

My middle name is Hallam. One of my friends is named Cody.

http://barefootblog.wordpress.com/

I also know a future advertising exec, a fashion goddess, several professional musicians, a photographer, couple of models, a movie maker, one person who helps troubled youth, and a wilderness adventure guide. All of these people have embraced something inside of them that really is truly them. They have a style of dressing, of talking, of creating, of living, that is totally theirs. They have a community of like minded people, who are as individual and wonderful as they are. Knowing all of these people has enriched my life greatly. It has also brought to my mind a question. A question I ponder at night, when I realize I have spent another entire day not doing anything. An entire day not becoming me. An entire day avoiding all the things that make a person. That question is this:

Who am I?

I don't mean Who Am I, like the Jackie Chan movie. I mean, Who am I? If I were to really sit down and think about it, I have no idea what the things are that set me apart from the rest. I don't know what are the things that assign me to a group of people. I play D&D. Am I a dungeon nerd? I rock climb. Do I belong with the granola crowd? I quite enjoy playing guitar, mandolin and didjeridoo, but I certainly don't fit in well with the musician crowd. I play WoW quite a bit, but I don't feel that I am "one of them." I love to shoot guns, and own them. I even know a bit about them. You still wouldn't be able to say that I am a true-blue Hick. (I say hick here because I don't know what other label to give them. I mean the people who have the "Charlton Heston is my President" bumper stickers) I can read and enjoy philosophy. Would you call me a coffee shop thinker dude? As you can see, when I get right down to it, I have no idea who I am. I don't even have a particular style of dress. I just where clothes that Kara told me to buy (mostly). So here it is again:

Who am I?

Mmmm....vicissitudes

There are those times in life when you are very pleased that you are not another person. Like, every time you hear Phil Collins music. Life is so much better, not being Phil. But I speak today of a more specific moment and person, who's life I witnessed take a displeasing turn today.

I went rock climbing with my friends today, all of whom are experienced climbers. Not pros, or anything, but capable climbers who have done it a lot. Anywho, I tried a bit of crack climbing on this route:

As it happens, crack climbing involves a lot of jamming your foot into a crack, turning it sideways, and then standing on it. This is less than ideal care for a recently dislocated ankle, so I did 3/4 of it, and came back down. Right as I was untying the rope from my harness I saw something large fall past my left side and heard an unpleasing thump. Then I realized Virgil was no longer on the wall. Virgil had fallen some 30+ feet onto the very hard rocks of rock canyon.

It is true that there was a lot of blood and worry, but Virgil ended up being okay. Linden, who tried to grab the rope, sustained some pretty bad rope burns, but she is also alright. This was the moment when I realized, despite how undesirable my life may be, Virgil's was worse. I decided this for sure when I heard him ask (7 times in one minute) what had happened and why he was there. Heather certainly seemed traumatized. She has a hard time with people in pain. After sitting in the hospital with Virgil and Linden I have decided two things: One, it is very important to be able to utilize the priesthood at any unexpected moment. I did not expect to have someone basically fall to their death in front of me today. But he did. (almost) Second, life is a bizarre set of experiences. What lesson will Virgil learn from this? How will Linden handle not being able to work for a week? If you look at someone, anyone, you see how they are now. You don't see how they were. What they have done. Go to a restaurant. Look at any old man or woman in there. One of them may have once fallen rock climbing. Or maybe they served in the army. Or used to be a baker. How did all of the things in their life swirl all together to become the now that you are looking at? What did those experiences change? Or, a better question would be, how is your now changing you?

Gjallarhorn

Please go here:

http://www.gjallarhorn.com/musicvideo.html

Experience their music. Experience pearls.

Dan


(experience pearls? what the hell is he talking about?)

And moreover, I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual; and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness. O remember, remember that these things are true; for the Lord God hath spoken it.



...really?

Arbitrary Batman

I moved. I no longer live where I once lived. It is an odd sensation, moving. I have come away with this experience with the reaffirmed thought that what people crave most is stability. I once read a story by Orson Scott Card. In this story, he depicted a world where the government had grown too powerful. Where corruption was the political system. Where the masses were downtrodden and abused. Why would the people put up with this horrible system of governance? Because what people crave most is for tomorrow to be much like today. Think about it. We often praise those who's lives appear most stable, and criticize those who are more transient. What is stability, if not the monotony of daily similarities? And yet, these times when we are forced from the comfort of routine are the times when we are given the most opportunity. We are presented with the choice of changing with our situation, or stubbornly maintaining our same-ness. Take moving, for example. I have moved out of my apartment of 2 years. In this apartment I have made many friends; I have established a set of habits that involve the people who have been consistently around me. I had a set of behavioral patterns that accompanied these habits. All of these were based in and built upon my location. With that changed, I have two choices. I can choose to stagnate, and remain the same, but in a new dwelling. Or I can use this sudden jolt from the norm to reinvent myself. To reset my course and renew my efforts towards those aspects of myself that I desire to improve. I do not deny that I am disconcerted by the change. But despite this, I choose to reinvent myself, at least on a minor level. And perhaps this will leak upwards into the grander scheme of me, causing me to grow greatly in many directions.
Here's to hoping

dan

Poopy

Occasionally, I start to think. Usually this is a total accident. Last time I was thinking my brain-mission (like a transmission for your thinker) popped out of gear and started spinning. When I finally regained control, I found myself thinking about a story I once heard about a little boy. This little boy began to get sick. Nobody knew why. After a while, he was taken to the doctor, who informed his family that he needed to poop. Turns out, he hadn't pooped for a very long time. We're talking months here. When his dad asked him why he didn't poop, he responded, "Because sometimes it hurts." How often are we like this little boy? I don't mean pooping. I am using the story as a metaphor. How often do we not do something because we are afraid it might hurt?